


the cold (my burning promise)

by BlueKappa



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Cuddling & Snuggling, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Robin, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling Tim Drake, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt, Hurt Damian Wayne, Hurt Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Light Angst, Platonic Cuddling, Protective Bruce Wayne, Protective Jason Todd, Self-Worth Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Needs a Break, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake Whump, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim Drake-centric, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, no beta we die like jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28988862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueKappa/pseuds/BlueKappa
Summary: While fighting Mr. Freeze, Tim and Damian get locked in a room that gets colder by the minute.ORTim must find a way to keep himself and his little brother alive.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 72
Kudos: 780





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello, lovelies! Enjoy :)
> 
> TW: Hypothermia

Of course, Tim got stuck with the brat. It was supposed to be a simple mission like most disastrous ones were. Tim and Damian were tracking Mr. Freeze covertly in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, trying to find out why he was buying certain tech and what he was planning. 

Yet one misstep, one stupid accident, by Tim caused Freeze to discover them. Covert turned overt as they fought Freeze. Tim and Damian attacked and it seemed like they were winning as they pushed Freeze further into his base and forced him to be on the defense. It wasn’t until they were in a large empty room with Mr. Freeze smirking did Tim realize he fucked up.

“Have fun freezing to your deaths, little birdies,” he announced gleefully as he stepped out of the room. Damian rushed at the door but it slammed in his face. His fist pounded against it. A sharp exhale escaped the demon's mouth when it wouldn't budge, and his head slowly turned to Tim.

“Drake,” he hissed. 

Here we go, Tim mused.

“This is your fault,” Damian said, a scowl on his lips as he stalked towards Tim and shoved a finger in Tim’s face.

Tim opened his mouth to defend himself when a loud hiss came from around them. They both looked up.

“Gas? Not Freeze’s style,” Damian muttered as he reached for his rebreather.

“It’s not gas. It’s cold air. It's blowing in here to drop the temperature of the room,” Tim observed, already feeling a chill in the air. “We gotta get out of here.”

He walked over to the door and started feeling around for something, anything to work with.

“Tt. That’s obvious, Drake.” Tim could practically see the demon spawn roll his eyes behind his back.

“We need to get out of here before the temperature drops and we both die from hypothermia,” Tim corrected with a bite. Tim would rather be trapped in this room with literally any other sibling. At least they would try to help or wouldn’t take this opportunity to leave Tim to die and frame it as an accident. Well, maybe Jason would.

“Oracle?” Tim tried the comms. Static met him. Perfect. They were on their own. Along the door was a control box. Tim opened it and looked at the wiring. Alright, Tim, think. If you remove the red wire, the replace it with the green wire, then-

Damian huffed loudly. Tim tried to ignore him and kept his attention on the control box. He grabbed the wires, running through all the steps in his head. It shouldn’t take him too long, although with the air getting colder and colder he could already feel himself shivering. He would have to be quick or his fingers would get too numb to continue moving the wires.

Damian cleared his throat behind him. “Do you require assistance, Drake?”

“No, Robin.”

Damian had been surprisingly quiet for him. No insults or death threats. There was no way Tim was going to take it for granted, so he focused on the box that was their key to escaping. He didn’t know how long he was working on it, but he noticed he frustratingly dropped wires as his fingers shook. The temperature kept dropping until Tim was shivering quite violently and had to resist the urge to wrap his arms around himself. The cold air wrapped around him like a vice and refused to let go.

_Move faster, Tim, you are not dying by Freeze’s hand. Jason would never stop making fun of you. He would say your death was weak and embarrassingly compared to his brutal death,_ Tim motivated himself. 

“Dr-Drake."

“Robin, I’m working on it,” he tried to answer it steadily.

“T-timothy.”

That made him turn around. The boy in question had wrapped his cape around himself and was tucked into a small ball, shivering worse than Tim and teeth chattering. He was going to freeze before Tim was done.

“Shit, come here, Damian,” Tim requested as he held out his hand for the younger one. 

Damian stood up shakily, arms staying wrapped around himself. “What do you require of me?”

Tim grabbed Damian’s elbow and yanked him onto his lap. 

“Drake-”

Tim pulled Damian as close to his chest as possible and breathed heavily through the cold leeching into his bones. “Hush. You are gonna get hypothermia. For once don’t argue with me.”

Damian said nothing, only hesitantly pulled his arms between his body and Tim’s. Tim unclipped the cape from his back, despite it being a layer protecting him from the biting cold, and wrapped it around Damian’s body. Tim spared him one last glance before turning his attention to the door. He was so close. So fucking close. 

“Talk to me, Dami,” Tim ordered. Stay calm, Tim. You're okay. Damian’s okay. You're both gonna be fine. You’re gonna make it out of here.

“Bout what?” Damian asked quietly.

“Anything.”

Damian was silent for a moment. “We are working on landscapes in art class.”

Tim hummed absently in response. It was hard to stay focused when he had his hypothermic little brother in his lap, shivering so much that it made Tim's own arms unsteady as he reached around the boy for the panel. Plus he was trying to ignore his own hypothermia symptoms, but the ache from the cold left him trying, praying, to get his hands to move as he wanted them. 

Damian’s voice became slower and less frequent. It stopped abruptly. Tim didn’t look down. He couldn’t. The door was almost open, just a couple more wires. He pushed through his fatigue and sore muscles.

“Damian?”

No response.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck.

No more dead Robins. He couldn't- _he couldn't_ let a Robin die on his watch. He had heard Jason mumble it whenever Tim or Damian got hurt. _No more dead Robins._ No more little boys dying terrible deaths they didn't deserve. Jason looked haunted, and angry, and _broken_ whenever he said it. Tim started saying it too, although never out loud. He had heard Dick say it before to when Damian had gotten so banged up he was in a medically-induced coma for two days. _No more dead Robins_. Tim was not going to be the one to break that promise, that pact. He would get Damian out of here alive, whatever it takes.

“Robin, report.”

Damian groaned and pushed himself further into Tim’s chest. “Cold... tired.”

Tim held onto the relief fluttering in his chest. Damian’s okay. 

“I know, Dami, I know. Hold on.”

The last wire, and done! Tim looked up wildly right as the door opened in front of him. 

Yes!

“Okay, demon, let’s get outta here. Hold onto me.” Tim’s words slurred but it didn’t really matter. Damian wasn’t listening anyway. He attempted to stand, despite the numbness haunting his muscles and the small body he was carrying.

He got to his feet and staggered out the door, holding Damian tightly to his chest. The kid was a dead weight, barely clinging to Tim and breath shallow, but thankfully he was still shivering. Tim tried his comm again. “Oracle?”

“Red Robin, is that you?”

He almost cried in relief. Stay on task, Red, Damian’s not in the clear yet. 

“Yea, I need immediate evac. Robin and I are suffering mild to moderate hypothermia. We got trapped while fighting Freeze.”

“Tracking your location now. Evac on the way. About 2 hours out.”

Tim whined as the panic swirled inside him. “You can’t get here any faster? Robin is in danger of permanent damage if we don’t get him warm, immediately.”

  
All of Tim's words clumped together as he fought to stay present in his conversation. It was so hard though. He just wanted to curl up and rest.

Oracle sighed, sounding like she was in pain. “Red, we are going as fast as we can. Believe me, if we could get to you faster we would.”

Tim let a frustrated growl slip out of him. “Okay, we’ll be waiting. Red out.”

2 hours. Alright, Tim could do this. The rest of the base was abandoned. Tim ditched any plan he may have had for leaving. It was going to be night soon, and with the state they were in, they wouldn’t make it 10 feet out the door. Better to stay in the base for shelter. Unfortunately, the rest of the base was only a few degrees warmer than the room they were previously trapped in, no doubt thanks to Mr. Freeze wanting to ensure their deaths if they somehow escaped. Tim walked into the warmest room he could find in his half coherent state.

He gently set Damian on the floor and reached into his utility belt. Damian whimpered as a gust of wind blew through the room. “T-ti-timothy.”

“I’m just starting a fire, Dami, don’t worry. I’ll be back in a sec,” Tim soothed as he ran a hand through Damian’s hair. Tim pulled a small tinder and pulled a match out of his belt. Thank god for Bruce’s super anxiety. He tried to light it but his hands were shaking so intensely that he kept dropping the stupid match through his fingers. Damian was dying and he couldn’t even light the fire. Damian was so young, younger than Jason. _No more dead Robins._ He let the thought push him and, after his fourth attempt, he finally got the fire going.

It was getting harder to focus, to remember what he was doing, but he had to try. _No more dead Robins._ Damian was going to make it out alive. Damian was going to be okay. 

He quickly stripped out of the top of his uniform and got on his knees next to Damian. He made sure the capes were still tightly wrapped around Damian before he cut his uniform into stripes, pulled Damian’s gloves off, causing the boy to protest as much as he could, and started wrapping Damian’s fingers with the fabric. His teeth chattered violently as he fumbled with his utility belt before pulling out a roll of medical tape. He wrapped Damian’s cloth-covered fingers with medical tape then took off his own gloves and shoved Damian’s hands into them. Damian's hands wouldn’t fit into his own gloves with the amount of wrapping on his fingers. Hopefully, his wrappings on Damian would insulate some heat.

He repeated the process for Damain’s toes and feet, the boy didn’t say a word, not protesting, just watching Tim through half-lid eyes. It was the only indication Tim got that Damian was still coherent. Tim huffed as he pulled off his own boots and stuck them on Damian's feet, leaving his dead toes against the cold floor. Tim panted heavily when he was done, taking a second to wrap his arms around his bare chest and groan lowly to express his pain. He could barely think through the haze or ignore the excruciating agony his body was enduring.

“This’s gonna be ‘lil cold, Dami,'' Tim whispered. He pulled the capes off of Damian’s shoulder, laying them on the floor instead, and used whatever little strength he had to gently pull the boy to a sitting position and tore off the top of his uniform, leaving them both shirtless. Not for the first time, Tim thought adrenaline and fear was one hell of a drug.

“Timothy,” Damian whined, honest to God, whined. Tim had seen him break a bone with less noise.

“I know, hold on.”

Tim collapsed onto the floor next to Damian, not having the strength to gently lower himself, and pulled his brother into his arms. Tim heaved out a breath before rolling over to make sure Damian’s back was against the heat of the fire.

“You’re gonna be okay, I’ll keep you safe,” Tim whispered hazily into Damian’s hair, rubbing his hands down Damian’s back, forcing some heat into his small body. He tried to keep the pain and fear out of his voice. He was in so much pain. All he had on were the thin pants of his uniform, his bare back exposed to the chill of the room, his feet and hands also exposed without anything to keep them warm. He couldn’t really feel them though so it didn’t bother him as much. Damian didn’t say anything, but he hid his face in Tim’s shoulder. 

Damian tried to wrap his arms around Tim, but the older made a disapproving sound.

“Warmer between,” he slurred and pulled Damian tighter against him so the boy’s arms were trapped between their bodies.

Thankfully, the fire and cuddling seemed to be helping Damian, if only a little bit, but Tim’s condition was unfortunately stagnant or worsening. He couldn’t keep track. Not that he was complaining, he would much rather be the colder one than Damian, despite the demon spawn claiming to hate him.

After hour one, when the fire started to die and the night was fully set, it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. The temperature had dropped at least 5 or 10 degrees in the last hour. Damian was still shaking in his arms, but Tim’s shivering had weirdly lessened.

“Drake?”

Tim hummed absently in response, he hoped his fingers were still moving across Damian’s back. He couldn’t feel them. Or his toes for that matter, or his legs. The thought made him giggle, but it sounds more like a hitched breath.

“Thank you.”

Tim smiled against Damian’s forehead. 

“ ‘m your,” Tim thought for a minute. Why was Damian thanking him again? What did he do? Oh, he was keeping him warm. “-big brother,” Tim slurred. He was tired, and now that Damian was safe, or safer, maybe he could rest. He closed his eyes.

“Drake?”

The pull of sleep was too great to resist.

“Timothy?”

That was the last thing Tim remembered.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim gets warmed up!
> 
> Featuring Tim very high on pain meds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for leaving comments! It warms my heart😊
> 
> TW: Slight anxiety symptoms, self-worth issues

The first conscious thing Tim registered was the muted noise. Voices were talking quickly to one another somewhere around him. There were at least 2 people talking, maybe more?

The next thing that came to him was the warmth surrounding him. But it kinda hurt. He was so cold, the heat was burning. Tim whined quietly with whatever energy he could muster.

The noise around him stopped. There was some shuffling before a gentle pressure held his face. One voice started talking again, louder and closer. He tried to decipher what it was saying but frankly was more focused on the fire-like feeling across his skin.

He arched up to try to get away from the pain and huffed loudly in another attempt to voice his suffering. Two pressures came against his legs and one on his arm to hold him down.

“-im? Can ‘u ‘ear me?” The voice was getting a little less foggy as the waves of immense pain washed over him. It was going to burn through him, he was sure. He was freezing yet every nerve in his body was on edge, sending signals to stop the pain and get out. 

He screamed to cope.

“Tim? Can you open your eyes?” The voice asked. “C’mon, son, you can do it.”

Bruce. That was Bruce’s voice. That was Dad. Dad was safe. Dad would make the pain stop. Listen to Dad. Open your eyes, Tim, open them.

It was hard to fight against the weights that seemed to be resting on his eyelids, but he won, blinking long and hard to adjust to the light and faces around him. Bruce was the first face he could make out, his face the closer to Tim’s than the others. Tim shifted his gaze and saw Alfred standing by his legs, assessing his feet that had some warm clothes on them with a concerned look on his face, and Jason holding down one of his arms where an IV was attached but eyes running up and down Tim’s blanket-covered body.

No Damian. No Dick. Where was Damian? He had kept him safe. He had kept Robin alive. Right? The air wouldn't reach his lungs as a sudden wall of panic hit him. Why wouldn’t Damian be there? Damian had to be okay, he had done something to keep Damian warm. He couldn’t quite remember what, but he was sure he did everything right! God, everything was so fuzzy. Bruce couldn’t lose another Robin, he couldn’t-

  
“Tim. Tim you need to breathe. You’re gonna be alright, lad. We just need you to calm down,” Bruce soothed, rubbing his thumb against Tim’s cheek. But Tim shook his head sluggishly and tried to rip the oxygen mask off his face as he attempted to get out of bed with what little strength he had. 

“Tim, stay down,” Jason urged him as he, Bruce, and Alfred all made an attempt to restrain him.

“‘ere’s Dami?” He wheezed, already feeling light-headed yet body heavy. Alfred gently removed Tim’s hand from the oxygen mask and readjusted it so it was properly over his nose and mouth.

“The brat’s fine. He’s upstairs warming up with Dick. You saved him,” Jason stressed, rolling his eyes slightly. “Now would you lay the fuck down?”

Tim let them settle him against the bed, a new relief making him sob. Or maybe that was the agony running through his body. Damian was alive, Tim kept Robin, his little brother alive! He could rest now. It didn’t matter what happened to him. 

He closed his eyes, wanting any way to get rid of the pain.

“No, no, no. Tim. Stay awake. You can’t sleep,” Bruce scolded gently as he, with the help of Jason, pulled Tim into a sitting up position.

“No,” Tim groaned. He wanted to sleep and escape the pain and cold plaguing his body.

“I know, we’re so cruel for trying to keep you alive, Replacement.”

Fuck you, Jason. Tim thought angrily as he let his face rest against his brother’s chest. 

“Master Bruce, now that Master Timothy is awake, I suggest we get his feet in the warm bath.”

“Yes, of course, Alfred. Jason,” Bruce turned to Jason, “go upstairs to your brothers and sisters. We will be up shortly.”

Jason crossed his arms and glared at Bruce. “No. I’m staying here. Dick’s got Damian.”

Bruce’s face twisted in a way that Tim _knew_ he wanted to argue, but instead, he nodded. “Fine.”

Jason nodded too and wrapped his arm slightly tighter around Tim’s shoulders. Tim’s shivering had returned unfortunately and it couldn’t have been comfortable for Bruce and Jason to be wrapped around him, yet neither man moved. 

Alfred returned with a foot bath and placed it gently on the floor by the side of the bed.

“It will be the correct temperature in 2 minutes, Master Bruce. I would suggest fixing Master Timothy’s,” he paused for a second, his lips turning upward in amusement, “blanket burrito to make sure it is covering his head, but not his face. Now, I must attend to Master Damian upstairs, call me if you require my assistance.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Bruce said gruffly as the butler walked out of the medbay.

Tim’s teeth chattered as he attempted to wrap the blankets tighter around his shoulders. 

“Let me fix those, baby bird,” Jason said as he stood up and walked around the bed so he was standing in front of Tim. “Bruce?”

Bruce braced his hand under Tim’s armpit and gently lifted Tim up and against his chest so they were both standing. Tim let himself be moved but didn’t have the energy to help. Jason’s hands behind him pulled the blanket off his shoulder, causing Tim to whimper as a round of shivers ran through him. Bruce shushed him patiently, rocking Tim against his chest. 

“Careful of his IV, Jay,” Bruce hummed.

Jason scoffed. Bruce had the _audacity_ to insult his ability to take care of his brother right now. Yeah right, nothing could keep him away and make sure Tim wasn't as comfortable and safe as possible given the situation.

Jason made quick work to bundle Tim even tighter than before and now the blankets were also covering Tim’s head, leaving only his eyes exposed, nose and mouth covered by the oxygen mask providing warm air straight to Tim's lungs.

“Good as new, Timmers,” Jason said proudly as he grabbed Tim’s side and helped Bruce lower Tim back onto the bed so they were all now sitting on the edge.

“The bath is ready. Tim this is going to hurt a little as your toes unthaw okay?” Bruce said eyes locked onto Tim’s. Tim nodded tiredly, he was already in immense pain with the cold running through his body attempting to combat the heat. What’s a little more?

Bruce leaned down and helped Tim lower his feet into the water, immediately Tim screamed in agony. That was not a _little_ pain, Mr. Wayne, that was hell on Tim’s skin. That hurt more than any other chills or extreme cold he had faced in the last… however long it had been.

“I know, son, I know. We have to get you better,” Bruce said empathetically as he kissed Tim’s forehead.

“I don’t matter,” Tim whined desperately, his feet boiling. “I don’t want to be in pain. I’m so tired. Please.”

The shivers and sobs racking his body caused Tim to miss the way Jason and Bruce froze. Jason appeared in front of him in an instant, his hands heavy on Tim’s knees.

“Tim. Baby bird, look at me.”

Tim lifted his head up slightly to stare at Jason through half-lidded eyes. “You matter, okay? You matter to me, and Bruce, and Alfred, Cass, Damian, Dick, Steph. We all care about you. So don’t you dare give up now over a little pain, okay?”

Tim’s breath caught as he gaped at Jason’s own eyes welling with angry tears. Bruce didn’t say anything, but his face was pressed against the top of the blanket burrito and his hand was squeezing Tim tight.

“No more dead Robins, that includes you, idiot,” Jason said as he took his place next to Tim again. 

“Oh,” Tim murmured unintelligently. Honestly, he wasn't sure how to respond to that. He wasn’t a Robin, not anymore. And even when he was Robin, he was just a placeholder. He would have to ask about it later.

Tim buried his head against Bruce’s shoulder and just let himself cry heart-breaking sobs as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Jason's little speech and the suffering of his body brought all of his emotions forward.

“I don’t wanna do this ‘gain,” Tim whispered viciously through the hiccups.

“Yea, well we don’t want you to get hypothermia and nearly lose your toes again either, baby bird.”

“You’re doing good, son,” Bruce whispered as a particularly brutal shiver hit Tim. Tim nodded and squeezed Jason’s hand with his that wasn’t trapped in the blanket burrito. Jason squeezed him back just as tightly, using it to ground him while hearing Tim’s screams and cries.

After 30 minutes, the pain in his feet had lessened and Tim was emotionally and physically spent. He was on the verge of sleep, only awake because Bruce and Jason kept pestering him, when Alfred walked down the cave’s stairs, set a pile of clothes on the edge of the bed for Tim, and announced that they were all requested upstairs to finish warming up Tim and indulge in the drinks he had prepared.

Jason followed Alfred up, after the older man sternly requested him to, and only shot Tim one hesitant look before following.

“Let’s get you dressed,” Bruce said. Tim hummed and swayed slightly as Bruce reached for the clothes. Bruce carefully pulled the IV out of his arm and applied a bandage to his skin before getting Tim into the warm clothes.

Bruce was determined to not expose Tim to the cold and kept the blanket wrapped around his son while also tugging a long-sleeve pajama shirt over his head.

“Why… where’s my clothes?” Tim asked as Bruce grabbed the pajama pants.

“You weren’t wearing any except for those flimsy pants when we picked you up,” Bruce started with a slight growl. As if the pants had the audacity to not force Tim’s other clothes back on his body. “Then we had to perform some Active Core Rewarming methods to make sure you-”

Bruce swallowed heavily. “To make sure you wouldn’t have any lasting injuries. Alfred was sure you were going to lose a toe for a minute there.”

The pajama pants were on, and very cozy, Tim thought happily. They were also fuzzy and must have been Dick’s since Tim didn’t own any fuzzy pants of his own. He frowned.

“Bruce?” 

“Yes, chum?” Bruce's eyes drifted from where he was adjusting Tim’s blankets to Tim’s face. 

“I wan’... fuzzy pants.”

“You can have all the fuzzy pants you want, Tim,” he said with warmth in his eyes.

“Yay,” Tim murmured as he fell forward into Bruce’s waiting arms. “I’m tired.”

He shivered from the lingering cold. “And cold. My feet ‘r itchy.”

Bruce picked up Tim gently in his arms and held him tight as he started walking. “I know, lad. You’ve gotta stay awake for a little longer.”

Tim hummed unhappily and let his head be a dead weight against Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce rubbed small circles on his back as they walked up the stairs leading to the mansion. It was like Bruce _wanted_ him to fall asleep.

"You still with me?"

Tim nodded. He didn't want to be though. He wanted to be asleep and warm and happy and _not itchy._ The manor was warmer than the cave, that much was obvious. The air buzzed with the sense of home and safe. Bruce continued to walk until they reached the main room where everyone was waiting.

“Look who’s alive! Ow- fuck you, Dickhead!”

"Master Jason!"

"Sorry, Alfred," Jason rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

Tim turned his head slightly to gaze at his family, laying in what looking to be a very comfortable pile of human warmth and blankets.

Tim’s eyes found Damian immediately. Looking like the picture of comfort, sleeping soundly in his own blanket burrito in Dick’s strong arms, and Cass leaning against his side. Tim’s body sagged even more.

“Yay,” he whispered to himself in victory. 

“What was that, Tim?” Bruce asked as he sat down, Tim in his arms, between Jason and Steph.

“Yay,” he repeated happily with absolutely no context. Bruce gave him a confused, yet fond look, as Jason and Steph laughed.

“B, what is he on,” Steph snorted loudly.

“Why does Damian get to sleep?” Tim whispered to Jason, shooting Bruce a glare.

“Because the brat didn’t get himself frozen to a half-dead popsicle on purpose,” Jason deadpanned.

Tim nodded solemnly. "I see."

“Glad to see you up, Timmy!” Dick whispered over Damian’s head. 

Tim smiled at him as Alfred approached with hot chocolate. “For you, Master Timothy. I will be right back to wrap your toes and fingers.”

“Okay. Thanks, Alfie!” Tim said as he attempted to take a sip of the delicious hot chocolate. 

"Tim, wait!" Steph hastily grabbed the mug. Tim hissed at her like a feral animal and held his hands out for the chocolately treasure.

Bruce chuckled quietly behind him and took off Tim's oxygen mask with caring hands. "Go ahead, lad."

Tim snatched it back from Steph, making sure to shoot her a glare, and Jason one too because he didn't help Tim, and took a long sip of the drink. It was warm and sweet and perfect. He turned his attention to the movie, leaning against Bruce and leeching as much of his heat as he could. Alfred came back, wrapping Tim’s toes and fingers as Tim quietly complained that they were itchy and still hurt slightly, before pulling fluffy socks over them and shooting Tim a sympathetic smile.

“All will be well, Master Timothy. The pain will go away.”

Tim sniffed slightly and nodded. He finished his hot chocolate, savoring the warmth of the mug in his hands. 

“Done?” Bruce asked lips against Tim’s covered head. Tim nodded and handed his father the cup. By now, almost everyone was asleep. Dick had lost the battle of keeping watch over Damian now that Bruce was there and Damian was shiver-free. Besides, with how protectively and close Damian was wrapped in his arms, there was no way Dick would miss if anything suddenly happened to the youngest. Cass had pressed herself to Damian’s other side and also had succumbed to the pull of sleep. Although Tim wasn’t sure if she had been awake when he entered the room anyway.

Steph was awake, but only just, as she watched the tv through tired eyes.

Tim could feel Jason’s warmth against his other side. He wasn’t sure if his older brother was awake, but his head was resting against Bruce’s shoulder.

“Jay?” Tim whispered.

“Hm?”

He sounded exhausted just in that vocal note alone.

Bruce ran a hand through Jason’s hair soothingly. “Sh, Jaylad. Go to sleep. I’ve got him,” Bruce whispered against his second oldest’s head. Jason nodded sleepily and settled back down.

“Let him sleep, Tim. It’s been a long day.” 

“Can I sleep too?” Tim asked, leaning his head back to stare at Bruce. 

“Yes. You’re in the clear, lad. Get some sleep.”

_Finally_.

Tim closed his eyes and turned sideways slightly on his Dad’s lap so he could curl up against his chest. Bruce welcomed it and rested his chin on Tim’s head, ducking his head for a moment to press a kiss against his son's forehead. 

“Night, Dad,” Tim mumbled. 

“Goodnight, son.”

Tim fell asleep with a smile against his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim, high on med drugs: Bruce I want a hug.
> 
> Bruce, gently to his unaware son: Tim, you've been in my lap for the past three hours. My arms are wrapped around you.
> 
> If you think Bruce doesn't constantly kiss his kids' foreheads, you are wrong. Sorry, I don't make the rules.🤭
> 
> Also, a lot of shit probably happened when Tim was out. He missed 4-6 hours of himself almost dying.

**Author's Note:**

> What's gonna happen to poor self-sacrificing Tim? 
> 
> I love a good Tim and Damian story! Let me know what you think! <3


End file.
